An hour later, after receiving a painkiller injection and falling into a deep sleep, Perkins was still out cold.
Hunter returned to the sofa in the safehouse and sat down, the smile on his face impossible to suppress as he studied the newly awakened emergency medicine skill.
It had been half a year since he crossed into this world.
With the Proficiency System, he had already activated and awakened dozens of skills. Even though only two of them had been pushed all the way to max level so far, the benefits were already obvious.
His five core attributes were now approaching five times those of an ordinary adult male.
And with every new skill he mastered, Hunter felt himself moving closer and closer to the impossible.
The sensation of growing stronger in plain sight, bit by bit, was intoxicating.
"Next up is my own job."
Originally, Hunter had not planned to stir up trouble again tonight.
But earlier, while saving Perkins, he had used a huge number of grenades and explosives inside the Charles Building.
Zelvisky had been one of Las Vegas's casino moguls too.
By tomorrow morning, once the news spread, Hunter worried that Willy Bank, the target Diana had given him, might either leave Las Vegas temporarily or massively increase his personal security.
By then, even with Hunter's skill, the job would become a lot harder.
So he decided to kill Willy Bank tonight as well.
Once Hunter made a decision, he acted immediately.
His private space was stocked with weapons and gear in obscene quantities, so he was never worried about preparation.
After confirming Perkins was asleep, he left the safehouse.
He quickly mounted his motorcycle, swapped in a fake license plate, and roared off toward Willy Bank's residence.
He had already scouted the area the previous afternoon while touring the city in a rented helicopter.
The intel Diana gave him was incomplete, but it did include Willy Bank's residence.
Unlike Zelvisky, who spent most of the year away from Las Vegas, Willy Bank's family had been in the casino business for more than two generations.
Their estate sat in the southwest of Las Vegas and covered roughly seventy-four acres, almost three hundred thousand square meters.
The whole property was surrounded by desert, but the inside was packed with greenery.
Most of it was low-cut lawn and landscaped gardens, but there were also towering trees and dense clusters of flowers.
It was the kind of place that probably burned through well over a million dollars in water bills every year just to stay alive in a city like Las Vegas.
That was not Hunter's problem.
According to Diana's file, after inheriting the family casinos, Willy Bank began using every dirty trick he could think of, corporate fraud, scams, leverage plays, and predatory buyouts, to swallow up his partners and rivals.
He also knew he had made plenty of enemies.
That was why all of his casino security, as well as the estate's protection detail, had been outsourced to a very capable private security firm.
For that, Willy Bank paid more than seventy million dollars a year.
It was money well spent.
Every one of his casinos, and the estate itself, was guarded by top-tier security.
Conservatively, there had to be more than twenty retired soldiers, former special operators, and hardened mercenaries protecting him around the clock.
"Talk about a pain in the ass."
After riding for more than half an hour, Hunter reached the edge of the desert about twenty kilometers outside the city.
Because he had already scouted the estate by helicopter the day before, he had a rough sense of the layout.
He parked the bike about two miles away from the property.
The entire area around the estate was open desert. No cover. No shadows to hide behind. Just one road leading in.
That meant he would have to approach on foot.
Hunter picked a rise in the sand, climbed to the top, and pulled a night-vision scope from his private space to study the front gate in silence.
Even though Bank's estate was in the middle of the desert, the man had no shortage of money.
The whole perimeter was enclosed by a wall.
The front gate was an alloy door at least two meters high and five meters wide.
Floodlights made the entrance blaze like a beacon in the night, but the inside was impossible to see clearly.
Luckily, Hunter had already flown over the area that afternoon, so he had memorized the rough layout.
He remembered that inside the front gate, there were two guard posts, one on the left and one on the right.
The estate held a lot of buildings, but most of them were for entertainment.
The real core structure was a mansion complex in the center of the property, nearly two thousand square meters in footprint.
Diana's intel was not complete, so once Hunter got inside, he would be on his own.
After studying the estate for a while from the sand dune, he chose a point far from the front gate and crossed the desert in a low, careful run until he reached the outer wall.
He checked the top of the wall. No high-voltage wire. No cameras.
There was, however, a thick line of broken glass embedded across the top.
That did not bother Hunter.
He backed up a few steps, took a running start, and jumped.
His foot hit the wall once, and he vaulted clean over the nearly three-meter stone barrier into the estate.
The moment he landed, a sniper crossbow was already in his hand.
He looked around carefully. No immediate danger.
Then he started moving toward the helipad not far away.
He stayed low the entire time, using the estate's flowers and shrubs for cover, moving in stop-and-go bursts.
Before long, under the moonlight, Hunter could make out the helipad about a hundred meters ahead.
A helicopter sat on it.
And about twenty meters from the pad, on the grass beside it, two large dogs were chained to opposite sides of the aircraft.
He could not tell whether they were Belgian Malinois or German Shepherds, but from the caliber of security detail Bank had hired, they were almost certainly trained to military standards.
Hunter did not want to be spotted.
He raised the sniper crossbow and aimed at one of the dogs' heads.
Then he pulled the trigger.
A specially made bolt shot out.
At a hundred meters, the dog lying on the grass suddenly snapped awake, lifting its head as if it had sensed something.
A split second later, the bolt punched through its neck.
It only managed one low, strangled whimper before it convulsed and went still.
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